His picture graced a billboard overlooking Fourth Street that read; this man wants to ruin Mustang Prairie, will you let him?
“Great. Just great,” he murmured to himself and quickly went to pick up lunch. As he strode down the west end of Fourth Street he saw pink, green and blue flyers that looked similar to the billboard, each one blaming him for the imminent destruction of the town. Instead of the friendly smiles he normally received when he ran errands in town, he found that he was now met with icy stares, cold shoulders and outright dismissals. “Maybe I should have just had food delivered,” he said as he opened the glass door and entered Whatcha Got Cookin’?
Instantly he was hit the smell of hot butter, bacon and hamburgers. Noel looked around at the red and white fifties style booths with miniature jukeboxes in the center and he thought it was a shame this was the first time he’d been in here. He took a seat at a red stool in front of a cream colored counter scattered with half & half, sugar and napkin covered silverware and scanned a plastic menu.
A very thin man with slick black hair and a pencil thin moustache sauntered over to him, searching the pocket of his black apron. The man stared for nearly a minute before speaking. “What is it you would like…homewrecker?”
Noel nearly burst out laughing at the faux French accent this guy was trying to pull off, but considered what the entire town probably thought of him, he simply asked, “What’s good here?”
The frail man shrugged his shoulders flippantly, “What isn’t?”
“Ok then I’ll have a bacon cheeseburger with the works, a garden burger, plain, 2 orders of fries, 2 milkshakes and an order of chocolate crepes.” He gave the man the dashing smile he normally reserved for women, hoping he would relax a little.
A small smile and a not so small giggle spread over the man. “Just because you are trés handsome does not mean I forgive you for trying to kill poor petite Mustang Prairie.” He waved his pencil and clicked his tongue.
Noel held up his hands in surrender. “I’m not trying to kill anything, Mr…?”
“Call me Jacques,” he held out his small hand as though he actually thought Noel would kiss it.
“Jacques I’m not trying to kill Mustang Prairie, or anything else. My company promoted me and sent me here. That’s all.”
Jacques pursed his invisible lips together and grunted before shouting Noel’s order in faux French to a cook in the back.
Cradling his head in his hands Noel was grateful that the entire town hadn’t already showed up to give him a piece of their collective minds. That, he thought, was the good thing about small towns. Everyone conducted personal business during their lunch hour so all the business owners couldn’t approach him. Yet.
Twenty minutes later Noel had his order, and another scolding from Jacques, and made the walk back to his car. Overloaded with bags and drink carriers Noel simply focused straight ahead, somewhat saddened that his easy friendships with the people of Mustang Prairie had ended so suddenly and without warning.
Noel dropped his and Amelia’s lunch as he turned the corner to his car. His brand new sports car looked as though it had spent the evening in the worst part of New York, not a quiet tree-lined street in Mustang Prairie. His new performance tires were flat, with two large screwdrivers sticking out of each one. The driver’s side window lie scattered in millions of pieces on his seat. There were a few dents on the body and his tail lights were shattered on the cement below the car. As he rounded the front he noticed a spider web crack in the windshield and several of the multi-colored flowers that had now become a pain in his toned backside.
Noel leaned against his wrecked ride and sighed heavily before calling for a tow.
##
Shellie spent most of her weekend hydrating and coming up with ways to make sure Noel and KitchenMart left Mustang Prairie quickly and before any lasting damage could be done. Her first goal was to make sure that everyone in Mustang Prairie knew Noel’s identity and his reason for taking up residence, and that was easily accomplished with a little help from Janice at The Print Shop. She spent Saturday afternoon printing off colorful flyers with Noel’s face on them, looking more menacing than handsome. After a quick sandwich and latte at GrindHouse, she went to see Paul’s wife about renting billboard space on Fourth Street, where she placed a gigantic version of the flyer.
Those who didn’t receive or chose to ignore her email would certainly find out as they drove through town what the handsome newcomer was up to.
Although a small pang of guilt hit her right in the gut as she printed off the photo she found of him on the KitchenMart website, it quickly passed when she thought of him and Amelia’s limbs tangled together across a grotesquely large and expensive conference table. She told herself that she would still conduct this guerilla war against him if things had worked out between them. At least she hoped she would.
Next she gathered petitions to send to the towns surrounding Mustang Prairie who would inevitably be affected. There weren’t enough signatures to be gotten in Mustang Prairie to make it difficult for KitchenMart to open, which she thought rather ironic considering the people of this town would be most impacted. Undeterred she knew she had allies in all directions who would mobilize to keep their towns from becoming more statistics in this bad economy. Inside the packets with the petitions were dozens of flyers with the instructions to re-print and distribute immediately since KitchenMart was already hiring.
Finally Shellie began working on the part of this she would love most, organizing the protest of KitchenMart on their own property. She knew the rules very well, including one little known rule that allowed protestors in the city limits of Mustang Prairie full access to the targets of their political wrath, provided they stayed fifty feet from the entrance and exit doors. With this information Shellie started working on lining up protestors from five different towns to make Noel and KitchenMart sorry they chose Mustang Prairie.
By the time Monday morning arrive she felt energized and ready to fight, even if she did still feel a little heartbroken. “I’ll get over it as soon as he’s gone,” she told herself.
##
Getting over Noel wasn’t going to be as easy as Shellie hoped when she made the proclamation early Monday morning. By the end of the day he had not only occupied her thoughts the entire day, but she found him pacing impatiently on the porch when she arrived home. Oh great, she thought as she exhaled into her steering wheel. Maybe if I just stay here hidden, he’ll get tired of waiting and go upstairs.
After several minutes of watching him pace back and forth Shellie sprang from her car and slammed the door, unwilling to be held hostage in front of her own home. “May as well get this over with.” She knew he had seen the flyers, if not the billboard since he rarely ventured into the center of Mustang Prairie. “Noel, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Her uncertainty and hurt were masked by a cool demeanor that she hoped he could see.
Noel looked up in the direction of Shellie’s voice and his eyes narrowed on the playfulness dancing in her eyes. Hold it together man, remember she’s the one ruining your plan, he reminded himself. “To what do you owe the pleasure? I think you know damned well what!”
Placing her free hand over her heart, Shellie feigned hurt. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” She liked this game, she thought to herself, even more so as she realized how upset it made him and his eyes were a wonderful dark green when he was angry. And turned on, she reluctantly thought.
Noel held up a handful of crumbled papers in just the colors she chose for her anti-KitchenMart flyers. “This is what I’m talking about Shellie!” He slammed the colorful ball onto the ground with all the anger he could muster. “Your little game is costing me a small fortune!”
She shrugged, making her way up the stairs. Her legs began to shake underneath her as she drew closer to him, to his scent. “Perhaps you should be thinking about what you’re costing the people of Mustang Prairie.” She stepped a wide circle around Noel to avoid even
the possibility of touching him.
An angry growl released from deep within Noel. Never had a woman made him so angry. “I have a job to do Shellie and I understand that you don’t like that, but my car is off limits!”
Shellie turned the key to open her door before turning to face him. “Noel I have no idea what you’re talking about but I’m guessing you saw the flyers and they upset you. But I guess we both have jobs to do.” She planned to slam the door in his face after that gem, but her plan was thwarted by the strength of his well muscled leg. “Noel you’re getting pretty riled up over a few flyers, aren’t you?” She pressed as hard as she could on the door, hoping he would relent in pain. He didn’t.
“This is not about some silly flyers. This is about my car. Being vandalized.” He said the words slowly, deliberately so she could understand how serious he was. The look of shock on her face confirmed that she didn’t know.
She opened the door, apologetically. “I had no idea. I never meant for that to happen.” She stared up at him for a moment, feeling a brief moment of compassion for the man who stirred such erotic thoughts within her.
Some of the anger dissipated and his shoulders relaxed. He was still furious about his car, but the compassion in her voice and her gold-flecked eyes reminded him of why she never left his thoughts for more than a few minutes. “Look Shellie--,”
“Come in,” she cut him off and walked inside.
He exhaled forcefully, unsure why everything she did got under his skin in one way or another. He removed his shoes in the foyer and continued into the kitchen. “Look Shellie I know that we’re on opposite sides of this but I don’t think civility is too much to expect, do you?”
She turned around staring at him incredulously. “Civility? Are you seriously talking to me about civility?” She opened the fridge and against her better judgment pulled out a new bottle of Moscato. Reaching for a glass, Shellie placed it on her island counter, since she no longer used the kitchen table. She spoke while she searched for her corkscrew. “I’m not the one trying to demolish an entire town for a few dollars,” she grunted as she eased the cork from the bottle.
“It’s more than a ‘few dollars’,” he barked at her.
Shellie never took her eyes from him as she poured. “Well whatever price allows you to sleep at night Noel. All I’m saying is that you play with people’s lives and livelihoods and you should expect them to get a little worked up.” Satisfied with her half full glass, she took a long sip.
Noel stood up, slamming his fist on the table. “A little worked up? It’s going to cost me more than ten grand to get my car fixed!” He began to walk to her but stopped when she held her hand up and stepped backwards. “You’re afraid of me, now? I’m not the one who’s shown a proclivity for violence,” he reminded her.
“I’m not afraid of you. I just don’t want you getting any ideas.” She said so matter of factly, she surprised even herself.
The way she looked at Noel cut him to his core. Even though he could tell there was still something between them, the look of disgust on her face confused him. “What ideas would that be Shellie? That you’re so irresistible that I’ll jump you right here against your will?” He laughed angrily.
Tears began to pool but she willed them not to fall. She stood frozen with the wine glass still in her hand, looking up at him with blurred vision. “Of course not,” she tried to maintain her composure while her tears were determine to make an appearance. “I’m well aware that I was merely a time filler for you.” She sat her glass down. “I pretend to hold no sway over you or your libido, as you’ve made painfully clear.” She took one last look up at him before crossing then exiting the kitchen.
Damn! Real smooth Noel, he told himself. “Shellie, wait.” He crossed the kitchen and stalked through the door in just a few strides. Inside the living room he found Shellie waiting for him by an open door. “I’m sorry Shellie that came out all wrong.”
She held up her hand to stop him. “It’s perfectly fine Noel, I know exactly what you meant. Now, please leave.”
She was so quiet Noel knew that his words had made their relationship more difficult than ever, and he regretted them even more. He turned to look down into her sad eyes that were now a chestnut color, “You really do have the wrong idea about this Shellie. I wish you would let me explain.”
Shellie shook her head. “You don’t need to explain Noel, really. You didn’t make me any promises, and I didn’t expect you to.” She looked at him, silently pleading him to just turn and walk away.
“You didn’t really give me a chance, did you?”
“Maybe not, and I’m grateful for that given how things turned out.”
Noel ran both hands through his already disheveled hair, frustrated that she was being so stubborn. “Fine then. Have it your way.” He slipped on his shoes and left.
“Noel,” she called after him. When he looked up at her from his own door, she said, “I really am sorry about your car.”
“Me too,” he muttered and disappeared behind the door.
##
Once safely in the confines of his living room, Noel found himself replaying yet another encounter with Shellie. Normally not one for self-reflection unless it meant an alternate path to closing a deal, he found himself doing it far too much these days.
He couldn’t shake the way she looked at him, first with cold indifferent eyes, then disgust and finally hurt and betrayal. Cold indifference was an emotion he was comfortable with, having spent many years under his parents’ cold and indifferent roof. Many of his sexual acquaintances regarded him with cool indifference once their brief affairs came to an end. Although disgust was new for him, he knew that she felt that way because she still thought he was having an affair with Amelia. The one emotion he couldn’t shake, the one that cut him deepest was that she felt betrayed by him. He felt as though he had betrayed her, but as she said, he hadn’t promised her anything.
Had he?
No of course I never promised her anything. I don’t make promises to women. The more he thought about it the angrier he became that she would set those soft hazel eyes at him looking betrayed. Hell, he hadn’t even enjoyed the pleasure of sinking himself deep inside her for her to feel betrayed. Then sadness came at the thought that he never would get that pleasure as long she felt betrayed.
“Dammit!” Noel wasn’t used to a woman like Shellie. She wanted him, he could tell that much, but instead of giving in to that passion she pushed him away. She was protecting herself from him, but why? Was he someone she needed protection from? He wasn’t sure anymore and called the one woman, aside from Shellie, impervious to his charms.
“Noel, how are things in Small Town, America?”
He smiled, the sound of his sister’s voice soothed his anxiety. “Small as you’d expect, Abby,” he laughed. “How are my niece and nephew?”
“They’re great! You three could be triplets.” Everyone remarked how odd that Abby’s twins looked so much like her brother and with each passing day they looked more and more like Noel when he was their age. “So, are you bored to tears yet?”
“Not exactly. Busy though, very busy.”
Abby knew that tone very well. Although she and Noel didn’t spend a lot of time together as adults, they were close and she was the only woman he truly trusted. “So big brother what kind of trouble are you in and what can Dear Abby do to help?”
He chuckled, happy to see that some things can’t be changed by distance. “Abby this woman, she’s…infuriating.”
“You mean she isn’t falling at your feet after you’ve graced her with your killer Hampton smile?”
“No. Well, yeah I guess.”
Abby laughed loudly for far too long.
“I’m glad my troubles amuse you, sister.”
Her laughter began to slow as her breathing returned to normal. “Sorry Noel, but you’re so used to women chasing you that you don’t even know how to act when they don’t fall for the King of the W
orld act.” She paused for a moment, “Listen you have to get to know her and let her get to know you. Once you get past the stiff corporate exterior, you’re actually a pretty cool dude.”
“But how Abby, she’s not pleased with me and she hates KitchenMart.”
“She hates…,” Abby’s voice trailed off as recognition hit her. “Oh no, you’ve gone and fallen for an activist!”
“You don’t have to sound so happy about it.”
“How could she not have known? I mean, everything about you screams ‘corporate’.”
“I didn’t exactly tell her, and I was dressed pretty casually the few times we met.”
Still chuckling, Abby exhaled dramatically. “I suggest you give this one up Noel unless you’re willing to quit your job.”
“Why?” He didn’t think Shellie was that unreasonable, but was he wrong?
Abby sighed. “Look Noel she hates everything you stand for and unless you quit your job this will always hang over the relationship.”
“It’s just a job though, Abs.”
“If that were true Noel you wouldn’t sound so terrified.” The sound of fear coming from her brother was new. Noel was the bravest person she knew and this new emotion told her just how serious he was about this mystery woman. “I hate to tell you this big brother but you’re company is going to ruin her town, something she no doubt has already told you,” she began.
“But --,” he tried to interrupted but Abby just continued.
“And what kind of relationship can you have if you’re personally responsible for taking away everything she knows and loves?”
“Maybe you’re right,” he mumbled.
“I am, but judging by your tone you aren’t deterred, are you?”
“No Abby, I’m not. I’m sorry but I’m not. I know you’re right and if I could just let it go I would. You know that.”
“I know. Good luck Noel.”
“Thanks Abby.”
Conflict of Interest Page 11
